


Warm

by likeadeuce



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-15
Updated: 2010-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-07 07:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeadeuce/pseuds/likeadeuce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They may be an unlikely pairing, but sometimes that's why it works.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warm

One Friday night, when Fred Burkle was sixteen, she ended up in the way-back of her parents' Pontiac station wagon with her hand up the skirt of Sue-Ann Metcalf, the head cheerleader at Petrolia High School. Sue-Ann's mouth tasted like nacho cheese and Extra Sugar Free Gum. She said, giggling against Fred's lips, that _her_ mouth tasted like wood -- which it did, because of the reed from the clarinet that she'd been blowing into all evening. Fred explained about reeds, which Sue had never heard of, and demonstrated the fingerings for _1812 Overture_ on the other girl's arm. When they were done, Sue-Ann shivered in her short skirt. Fred covered the girl's legs with the heavy, scratchy jacket of her Marching Panthers band uniform.

They only knew each other by accident. They didn't go to the same school. They saw each other a few more times, but they never _had_ to see each other if they didn't want to. But whenever their paths did cross, it was always nice, even if nobody else knew why.

Fred didn't think about high school very often, anymore.

Then, it wasn't very often that she found herself lying flat on her back, in the cargo area of a station wagon, with a pretty blonde girl on top of her.

Fred giggled.

Buffy stopped, her hands in the motion of unbuttoning Fred's blouse. "What?" she said, sounding anxious, and Fred wondered what it was about the Buffys and the Sue-Anns of the world, the pretty blonde perfect girls, that made them so worried they were going to do something wrong.

"Nothing," Fred said, touching Buffy's hand. "It's just that, I never thought I was going to end up tonight -- in Cleveland."

"There are worse places," Buffy said, although she didn't sound very convinced, and the last thing Fred wanted was to make one of the world's pretty perfect girls get frustrated and defensive. So she reached up and touched the back of Buffy's neck, and pulled her down into a long kiss.

Buffy's mouth was warm and soft, and she kissed with confidence that seemed to grow as her hands moved down Fred's body. She had small hands. Her hands pulled the blouse down from Fred's shoulders, and slid under her bra. The fingers that touched her breast were cold. Fred shivered, and her nipple constricted. Even as the pulse throbbing in the lower half of her body became more insistent, Fred squeezed Buffy's palm and lifted her hand. "Cold," she said.

"Stupid Cleveland."

"It's okay." Fred raised her head and started to kiss the tips of Buffy's fingers.

"Warm," Buffy said approvingly. She shifted, so that her leather-clad thigh rested between Fred's bare legs. A shudder of pleasure ran through Fred's body, and she took two of Buffy's fingers deeper into her mouth, licking and sucking until they didn't feel cold anymore. Her tongue felt calluses on the skin, and she remembered that this was Buffy's right hand, the one that held a stake. Fred had a scar on her own thumb, where she had slipped once, with a crossbow trigger. This was the thumb that she slid between Buffy's waistband and the skin of her belly.

Still kissing the fingers, Fred undid Buffy's zipper. It was a struggle, for a moment, to pull the tight leather pants down around her thighs. But Buffy helped her by wriggling, and then Fred was touching a thin layer of cotton. She reached underneath, felt the slight stubble of hair, and touched the other woman's clit. It felt stiff, and sharp, and ready, so Fred brushed past and slipped two fingers inside of Buffy. "Oh." Fred laughed. "Warm."

Moaning and laughing at once, Buffy pulled her hand out of Fred's mouth, and moved it down, to rub circles on her breast. "Better?" Buffy asked and, before Fred could answer with a resounding yes, began to slide downward. Her lips touched Fred's nipple, kissing and sucking, her tongue snaking around the raw, aroused spot. Fred began to move her hand faster, feeling muscles contract. Buffy's pulse speed up, until she raised her mouth for a long shuddering moan.

Fred pulled her fingers free, slowly, and moved to rest her hand in the small of Buffy's back. But Buffy was moving already, spreading kisses down the skin of Fred's stomach. Together, they pulled Fred's short skirt down around her hips.

"Wait a minute --" Fred had to slide into a half-seated position, and Buffy seemed to be bumping her boots against the back window. But they managed to get in position, and soon Buffy's tongue was flickering against Fred's clit, as Fred lay back, sighing at the ceiling, and thinking about Sue-Ann Metcalf.

Funny, this was the same kind of car she'd had in high school. But Fred didn't remember having to fight for space, didn't remember the seat back digging into her shoulder blades. She hoped that meant that meant that, when she looked back on tonight, it would all seem beautiful and perfect. But she didn't really mind a little discomfort. That was how you knew it was real.

When they were finished, Buffy slid up beside her, lay on her back, and smiled.

Fred squeezed Buffy's hand and smiled in return. "Are you ready to go back?"

"To a house full of bickering vampire slayers?" she asked. "Honestly? Are you?"

"To a high-rise full of evil lawyers? Honestly?" Fred stretched her arms above her head. "We do still need to talk about some of this Hellmouth stuff, before I fly back to L.A. Are you in a hurry?"

"Not really."

"Me neither." And Fred lay against Buffy, burying her face in the perfect blonde hair, happy, for the moment, to feel warm.


End file.
